


The Sweetest Doom

by MissCrazyWriter321



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Banter, Breakfast foods, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Normalize Angry Waffle Making, Speedystorm-Relationship, Teasing, Thea is a Legend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 16:04:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/pseuds/MissCrazyWriter321
Summary: "Time travel is throwing off her internal clock. At least, that’s the excuse Thea uses when she wakes up at three in the morning craving cereal." Thea and Jax enjoy breakfast foods, argue with an AI, and find some common ground.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChillinLikeVillains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillinLikeVillains/gifts).



> Not long ago, I decided to make a moodboard for this ship. Much to my surprise, I found several other lovely people who think this couple is just as adorable as I do. That, combined with a plot bunny courtesy of ChillinLikeVillains, prompted this story. 
> 
> Essentially, Thea joined the Legends recently, and she's still settling in.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, settings, or waffles.

Time travel is throwing off her internal clock.

  
At least, that’s the excuse Thea uses when she wakes up at three in the morning craving cereal. (Not that anyone is awake to judge her, but she likes to cover her bases.)

  
That thought firmly in mind, she makes her way through the winding metal corridors, absolutely refusing to ask Gideon where the kitchen is.

  
If she gets lost, no one can prove it, and Gideon is sworn to secrecy.

  
She expects the room to be empty, but when she finally finds it, there’s someone else right in the center: Jax, surrounded by several platters stacked high with waffles, and a large mixing bowl in front of him. He doesn’t even notice her, too preoccupied by whatever is in the bowl, stirring viciously.

  
For a moment, she freezes in the doorway, too puzzled to even move.

  
“What are you doing?”

  
He’ll definitely deny that the noise he makes is a squeak, but there’s no other word for it, and she stifles a giggle as he drops his stirring spoon in surprise.

  
“I’m-I’m making waffles,” he answers sheepishly, running a hand over his head before retrieving the spoon.

  
She knows that she’s caught his eye in her few weeks on the ship. She’s good at reading people, after all, and Jax isn’t what she’d called subtle.

  
Once upon a time, it would have been an easy call for her; He’s cute, he’s charming, and she’s lonely. Now, though, she isn’t the girl she once was. The line between hero and killer still blurs for her some days, and she’s trying to find her footing.

  
Not the best time to to start an epic romance, or even a fling, she reasons.

  
Still, she doesn’t bother to fight a smirk, making her way into the room, opening the nearest cabinet. Where were the bowls, again?

  
“Yeah, I can see that,” she teases, rifling through the various drawers. She’s tempted to ask Gideon where to look, but her pride holds her tongue, at least for the moment. “But why so many? And why in the middle of the night?”

  
She catches his shrug out of the corner of her eye. “I was up late, working with Gray on some new moves.”

  
Ah, there’s a bowl. She snatches it, maybe a touch too forcefully, grabbing a spoon as well. With a few presses of a button, she has her fabricated cereal. (And she tries not to think about how weird that is.)

  
“That still doesn’t explain the waffle apocalypse,” she points out, gesturing with her spoon for emphasis, and he laughs, something soft passing over his features.

  
“It’s this thing my mom used to do with me,” he starts, and she pulls herself up, settling on the counter. A safe distance from him, too far to touch, but anchored, so he knows she isn’t going anywhere. “When I was a kid, and I’d get real mad at her over something, she’d tell me to make waffles. If I was still mad at her when I was done, we could talk about it while we ate.” He finally stops mixing, smiling up at her.

  
Brief memories flicker through her mind, of her own mother. She can’t imagine a heart to heart over breakfast with her, not in a million years. Pushing those thoughts away, she focuses on his words.

  
“Kept me from saying a lot of stuff I would have regretted. Plus,” he adds, his grin turning playful,“waffles make everything better.”

  
She can’t help but grin back, ignoring the voice in her head screaming to stop. Because this is flirting, this is definitely flirting, and she shouldn’t be encouraging him.

  
A thousand responses knock at her brain, and to stifle them, she takes a huge bite of cereal.

  
Immediately, she regrets it.

  
“Ugh! What is this?”

  
Before Jax can answer, Gideon’s crisp voice cuts in. “It’s Cheerio Cereal from the 22nd century, Miss Queen. Just as you requested.”

  
Thea can’t decide if the AI sounds smug, or if it’s just in her head. It’s late, after all, and surely mocking her crew isn’t in Gideon’s programing.

  
“I asked for _Cheerios_ , Gideon. This tastes like cardboard.”

  
“I’m afraid it’s all I have available. If you’d like, I can pull up a recipe, and you can attempt your own?” Definitely mocking, Thea decides, scowling up at the ceiling.

  
Jax laughs, though he quickly muffles it when she turns her glare on him. “Lay off her, Gideon,” he says, patting the countertop reassuringly. “She’s still getting used to all this. And to be fair, 22nd century food SUCKS.”

  
No response comes, and Thea briefly wonders if Gideon is sulking, before shaking her head. Of course not. That isn’t possible, and if it is, she really doesn’t want to know.

  
Instead, she focuses on Jax, (dangerous, the back of her mind warns, but she ignores it,) and raises her eyebrows. “That was…”

  
He nods, a fond look passing over his face. “Yeah, Gideon definitely has… Character. It’s okay, though. We love her anyway.”

  
“Were I capable of it, I’m sure I would have a similar sentiment toward you,” the AI responds primly, and Jax scoffs.

  
“Come on, Gideon. You know you love us.”

  
No answer, but Thea would swear the room grows a few degrees warmer. Yeah, she definitely isn’t going to think about the ship making itself (herself?) blush.

  
She sets the cereal aside, ready to call it a night, but he clears his throat. “Want to grab a waffle before you go?”

  
His tone is casual, but his eyes are far too hopeful, and she KNOWS that she should politely decline, should get out of there as quickly as she can, but she can already picture his disappointment, and… And frankly, she doesn’t want to leave.

  
“Sure, why not?” She answers, not letting herself overthink it. “But only if you have enough.”

  
It takes him a few moments to catch her teasing, (she’s nothing if not a master of deadpan,) but when he does, his face lights up, and oh, she’s doomed.

  
Because right now, with him looking at her like that, she doesn’t feel like a killer, or a vigilante, or even a time-traveller. She feels like a girl on her first date, innocent and playful, maybe even a touch shy.

  
Deadpan does have more than once use, and she makes sure to keep her revelation hidden as he responds.

  
“Yeah, I’m not too worried about running out.”

  
She crosses the small room, leaning against the counter next to him, shoulder and elbow brushing against his in the process. He steps back, grabbing a plate, a fork, and a bottle of syrup, before returning to her side.

  
He’s definitely closer now-nearly his entire right side pressed against her left-but neither comment on it, as she snatches a couple of waffles from the nearest pile, and douses them with syrup.

  
A peaceful silence settles over them, and her mind wanders back to their conversation before. “Must have been a pretty bad training session,” she comments finally, and he blinks.

  
“Huh?”

  
She samples a forkful of waffle before she replies, nearly melting at the overwhelming sweetness. This definitely isn’t out of a recipe book, she thinks, sighing. Swallowing, she answers, “You said you were training, before this. And if you only make waffles when you’re mad…” Letting her voice trail off, she tilts her head back to look at him, not pushing, but giving him an opening if he wants to talk.

  
Subdued frustration washes over his face, and he groans, looking down at the counter. “Something like that. It’s just, sometimes I feel like Gray doesn’t trust me, you know?” He glances up at her, eyes imploring, and she nearly misses her mouth with the next bite. “Like even now, after everything we’ve been through, he still sees me as some little kid he sometimes shares a body with. Like he doesn’t respect me.” The last words are dripping with bitterness, and Thea almost regrets bringing this up; she never meant to upset him.

  
“I get that,” she offers tentatively, and he relaxes almost immediately, turning his head to look at her more fully. “Ollie-my brother-he’s pretty protective, too. And sometimes, it feels like he doesn’t trust me.”

  
“How do you deal with it?” He asks, and she considers deflecting with a joke, but his eyes are warm and sincere, and the truth is bubbling out without her permission.

  
“Our parents are dead. My brother, too, and Ollie’s ex girlfriend.” She can see the condolences on his lips, but she plows on, not up for opening those cans of worms. “So I get it, you know? It’s not that he doesn’t trust me, he just… Doesn’t want to lose anyone else.”

  
The look he gives her is too much, and she quickly turns her attention back to her waffles, stabbing the next bite and bringing it to her mouth.

  
He’s quiet for a long minute, maybe considering, before he speaks.

  
“Gray had a partner before me. Name was Ronnie.” His tone leaves no question as to the man’s fate.

  
She isn’t sure how to reply, and he doesn’t seem to expect her to say anything anyway. Instead, he reaches out, sliding the fork from her hand, and stealing a bite of waffles.

  
“Hey!” The complaint is mostly on principle-he made them, after all, and she doesn’t mind sharing-but he ignores it anyway.

  
Before she can say more, maybe scold him properly, she yawns, loud and long.

  
Her cheeks definitely don’t heat at that, or so she’ll tell anyone who asks. He’s grinning at her, eyes sparkling, and she huffs.

  
“I guess that’s my cue. I should head to bed.”

  
His nod is more than a little disappointed, but a yawn escapes him a moment later, and he seems to remember how late it is.

  
She tilts her head, turning to go, and makes it five steps before his voice stops her.

  
“Hey, Thea…” He sounds tentative-too tentative-and she can’t quite bring herself to look back at him. As nice as this was, she really isn’t ready for anything serious, and if he’s going to ask… She can’t look him in the eyes if she has to turn him down.

  
“Yeah?”

  
There’s a definite pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is calm as ever. She almost wonders if she imagined the moment before. “Rip has a secret stash of cereal. Real cereal, not the awful stuff.”

  
Her craving is long-pushed to the back of her mind, but she laughs all the same. Glancing back, she allows herself one more moment. “You should show me sometime.”

  
She vanishes down the hallway, his assurances that he’ll take her up on that following her with every step.

  
That night, she doesn’t dream of the people she’s killed.

  
Instead, she dreams of kind eyes, warmth, and syrup-flavored kisses.

  
Yeah, she’s really and truly doomed.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed! Until the next story, my loves!!


End file.
